Hate Spell
by srsanso
Summary: The war is over and the last Malfoy alive. If he can convince the Minister that his memories are true he can leave Azkaban. Can he finally have the life he secretly wanted, or will end up like father like son.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Draco looked around of what was left of his once home away from home. The war was finally over. Voldemort was dead, and so was his parents. The aurors were on their way to take him to Azkaban. He thought about disapperating, but he couldn't muster enough give a damn to leave. Where was he to go, the Ministry knew about the vacation homes. All thanks to his boastful father. It would be stupid to go back to the Manor, not that he wanted to be there anyway. Any happy memories of his childhood had died along with the first of many murders. He dropped his wand, and held his hands up in surrender before the aurors even said a word.

Hermione sat beside Harry at Draco Malfoy's hearing. She stared down at Malfoy's long hair that hung over his eye hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that had for some reason told his father he couldn't tell if it was Harry. She remembered Harry being thrown in the dungeon while his Aunt had tortured her. She rubbed her arm where 'Mudblood' would forever be ingrained into her skin. She remembered looking to Malfoy for help as she screamed. She remembered the way his eyes had shown disgust, not at her, but at his Aunt. She saw the flash of anger in his eyes, only to return to fear. She knew he was just as helpless as she was. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Kingsley asked his first question.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, the charges brought on you are as follows: The murder of Ronald Weasley," Hermione choked back a sob and squeezed Harry's hand. "Using the killing curse on muggles and your affiliation with Voldemort. How to plead?"

Draco looked up at the Minister jerking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Hermione leaned closer looking at the dead grey eyes that use to have a fire behind them even if it was to make her and her friends life hell. 'Water.' she barely heard the raspy whisper.

"I can't hear you!" The Minister called out. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but he started to cough. Hermione saw blood run down his chin. "You're wasting my time Mr. Malfoy."

"Stop! Can't you see he's…" She was cut off by another coughing fit. She grabbed something out of her beaded bag and ran over to Malfoy. "Aguamenti." The cup filled with water, she wiped the blood away from his mouth and held the cup to his lips. She watched him drink. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen_. She thought.

The last thing he wanted from Granger was pity, but the cold water running down his throat felt divine. He could hear his father's voice telling him he was weak and should have spit that water back in the mudblood's face. His father wasn't there, or his mother. He had dropped Pansy at the beginning of the year, and well, so much for those 'real friends' you make in Slytherin. He was alone, and honestly he couldn't blame his friends, he would have done the same.

"Are you quite finished, Ms. Granger?" He heard the Minister ask. She pulled the cup away from his lips. 'Yes, sir." He tried to reach for her as she moved back to her seat, making the chains around his hands rattle. She looked back at him.

"Thanks, Granger." He whispered. Hermione gave a half-hearted nod and took her seat next to Potter. The water had done more than just stop his coughing fit, it had given him clarity. He was a Malfoy, the last of the Malfoys, if he could get out of this, to not rot in a cell in Azkaban like his father would have, he could have a new life. A life where he could finally have a choice.

"Mr. Malfoy, what is your plea?"

He looked up at the Minister, a fire in his eyes and with a classic Malfoy smirk said,

"Not Guilty."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The witches and wizards in the courtroom that had been looking bored before were staring at him. They had thought he would go quietly, that they could use him for their wrath against Voldemort and his followers. He wondered, if they thought he was so far broken from losing his parents and his month in Azkaban that time and guilt would have gotten to him. It had with his mother. She had loved him more than anybody else. She loved him the way a mother is suppose to love her son. She had not treated him like the next Malfoy prodigy like his father had, or a countless face to do whatever the Dark Lord was bidding. Not even Pansy had truly loved him, she just wanted the Malfoy name and fortune. The only person that ever truly loved him was dead, she had lied to Voldemort. He wondered if she would be proud of him for the life he wanted to live and the means of receiving it. _Self-preservation_ , he told himself.

"Not Guilty?" Questioned the Minister, looking down at him. "You have the Dark Mark on your arm and you the audacity to say not guilty?"

"That is correct...sir. I was sixteen when I was forced to take the Mark, my childhood home used as Headquarters for Voldemort. I will comply with whatever it is to maintain my innocence be it Pensive or Veritaserum."

He heard the whispers, he even smiled to himself when someone said that it must be trick. He didn't know why, but he looked at Granger. Her face was pale and her mouth partly open. Potter on the other hand, his face was a shade of red that would make the a Weasley proud. He hid his smirk. Yes, Weasel was dead, but not by him.

"What are you getting at, Malfoy?" Potter spat. He ignored him, he had to stay calm. Self-Preservation, he kept telling himself. Potter wasn't going to let this go, "Malfoy!" This time he looked at Shacklebolt. _A_ _re we really letting Saint Potter run a hearing now?_

"Harry is right, just what are you getting at, Mr. Malfoy?" Malfoy sighed looking at Potter and back up again.

"I'm not getting at anything. I didn't kill Weasley or the muggles. I've never killed anyone." He knew he should have been proud to say that, but his father's voice once again appeared reminding him of his weakness. _But I'm alive,_ he thought.

"Your wand…" A brown haired witch started.

"My wand tells you what was cast, but not who cast it." He wanted to say more but didn't. His voice was getting raspy again his throat screaming for more water. _Take the bloody memories_ _for evidence. Obliviate me._ He wished. _No, they'll never do that. I'll wake to my screams for the rest of my life._ He shook his head wondering for a moment if it was even worth to fight. If he didn't die in Azkaban, and somehow he make it out of this someone would kill him.

"Come off it, Malfoy! You hated Ron, no amount of memory alteration can hide the fact that you killed him!" Hermione elbowed him in the side making her the new victim of Potter's attack. "He killed our best friend and here you are watering and defending him!"

Granger's face was livid, he'd seen it like that before when she punched him their third year. He waited for the punch to put Potter in his place, but it didn't come. He heard her whisper in a rattled voice that he didn't know that and to let Kingsley do his job. They looked at Kingsley, Hermione nodded her head to let him continue. The Minister cleared his throat and looked back down at him.

"Veritaserum can not hold up in the court of law, seeing as the user can manipulate his answers to a form of truth. I will personally collect your memories before you leave to go back to your cell. You will be brought back after the memories have been observed and will determine your guilt… or lack of. Guards."

The guards threw him in a holding cell somewhere in the Ministry. The floor was cold on his face and knees. He huddled in a corner hoping for warmth, the ragged sack he was wearing made him think of his house elves. They would bring him cups of hot cocoa as he sat by the fire after cold days of flying his Nimbus 2001. _Warm thoughts,_ He repeated until he heard the door open and Shacklebolt was upon him ransacking his brain pulling almost every memory from the last two years.

"Take him back to Azkaban." Shacklebolt told the guards as he walked out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

It had been three days since Malfoy's hearing. Hermione paced her flat fighting the urge to visit him in Azkaban. She couldn't get him out of her mind. He was sickly pale, his once bright blonde hair had looked more dishwater brown, and was coughing up blood. Death Eater or not, no one deserved to be treated like that. She wondered what had happened to him over the last month, but most importantly she wondered what had happen to Ron. _I'm not going to find out just sitting here._ She grabbed her wand and was out the door.

She followed the guard down the aisle to Malfoy's cell.

"Oi! You gotta visitor," Tapping loudly on the bars. "Good luck getting him to talk princess."

She glared at the man for a second then turned her attention to Malfoy. He sat on his cot bent over with his head in his hands. "Draco, It's me Hermione." He still didn't move. "Um. I wanted to talk to you, please." Nothing. She had played this scenario out in her head a hundred times over the past two days and she never thought he would just sit there ignoring her. "Draco, are… are you alright?" Finally he lifted his head and looked at her.

"No, Granger, I'm not alright. I'm stuck in this hell hole, I can't remember the last time I had a shower, the last time I had something actually drinkable was at my hearing. Oh, and my parents are dead, and you of all people are my first visitor since I've been here. So no, Hermione, I'm shit."

"I know, you weren't moving, I thought…"

"I'm alive." He choked out before coughing. She handed him something through the bars.

"It's a cough drop, muggle thing, it's only thing I could get past the guard." He popped it in his mouth, rolling his eyes. "Malfoy, what happened to you, why are you coughing up blood?"

"Back to Malfoy, are we?" She looked at him confused. "Never mind. It started a couple weeks after I got here, the cells are drafty and the sea spray leaks in on stormy nights. I got sick and you don't have be here long to recognize that healthcare isn't exactly top priority. So what did you want to talk to me about?" He had sat down in front of the bars, she did the same.

"Do you know who killed Ron?"

"Aw, I'm hurt Granger, here I am telling you that you are my first visitor, but you don't care about me, you care about is your Weasel," Her eyes started to water, she was about to get up. "Weasley, you care about Weasley. I'll tell you, just don't cry. I've seen enough women crying to last me the rest of my life."

She wiped her eyes and moved back into her seated position.

"The last time I saw him, we got into a huge fight over one of Voldemort's horcruxes, he stormed off and a week later we heard his name on Jordan's radio show."

"I knew his voice sounded familiar."

"The only way you'd have known if he had said 'Harry Potter's got the snitch, Gryffindor wins."

"Ouch, if you are going to act this way, maybe I don't want you to visit."

Just then the guard came and told her time was up.

"Guess you got your wish." She stood up and dusted herself off. Malfoy grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bars, she could smell the honey flavor on his breath.

"Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you."

"Fine." She started walking away.

"Promise?"

She turned back around to the bars and held his hand in hers. "I promise." She turned to follow the guard glaring at her. She looked back before he was out of sight, he smiled when he opened his hand to find the rest of the cough drops from her pocket.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Why isn't she here, she promised. Draco walked to the bars straining to hear any footsteps. He growled in frustration sitting on his cot. He wondered what time it was. He hadn't slept well last night. He had dreamt about her last night. He had told her about how Weasley died and how she screamed at him and blamed him, and that she would make sure he rotted in here. He remembered her face yesterday, the hurt in her eyes, tears rolling down her cheek. He didn't like seeing her cry. He had seen her cry too many times over Weasel. I'm glad he's dead, he can't hurt her anymore. He remembered leaving the Great Hall his fourth year and seeing her sitting on the steps crying. That was the moment he truly hated him. Draco knew he had been an arse to her in his younger years, but she was the friend of his enemy. Weasley was supposed to have been her friend and he used her.

"A knut for your thoughts?" Granger asked. He had been so deep in thought about her and Weasley that he hadn't heard her or the guard's footsteps. He walked to the bars and sat down like yesterday, she did the same.

"I was thinking about you, actually."

"Really?"

"Yes, you've been nothing but nice to me after all I have ever done to you and you offer me water and bring me cough drops and I don't understand why."

He could see that his honesty had taken her by surprise. He was tired of lies. His mother and Severus were dead because they had lied.

"I… don't like the way they treat prisoners. It's inhumane."

Be it Granger to worry over the very people that would kill her if they had the chance. He chuckled softly, then sighed. He knew the reason she was here and he knew once he told her, he would never see her again. He knew he was going to get out of Azkaban once the Minister saw in lack of enthusiasm to follow in his father's footsteps once the Mark was placed on his arm. He wanted to prolong it, but knew he was being selfish. As soon as he was set free he would be alone again. He didn't know what he was going to do, he knew he needed to come up with a plan but never imagined a world where he needed a plan like this.

"I know why you're really here. You need to know what happened to Weasley. You think that if you know that somehow you can move on with life, get the closure you need to tell yourself it's not your fault." He sighed. Here goes. "It's not your fault it's mine. I think Weasley was looking for shelter, until he could get home. I guess he had gotten in a fight with someone and they messed him up pretty bad from the looks of it. I guess some muggles found him and took him in. My father hated muggles, you know, and well it was about time I proved my loyalties. I didn't know he was there, I swear. The muggles were in their bedroom huddled up in the corner begging for mercy. I had my wand pointed at the woman's chest, I knew the words I just couldn't do it, I didn't mean it, you know. My father grabbed my wand and pushed me out of the way, he killed them. I can still hear that woman's screams. Weasley came to investigate and before he could disarm Father, well he died too."

He watched as she processed his words, he knew the moment her heart broke, he saw her brown eyes drown before the tears spilled down her cheeks. He sat there staring at her, he wanted to comfort her, maybe pull her into him, and wipe the tears away from her cheeks, like the way his mother had done for him when he was little. He knew he couldn't even if the bars weren't between them, he didn't move, he didn't want to see her jerk away from him, to look at him like the monster he already felt like. I'm guilty, just by association. She stood up, making him jump up too. She turned to leave. He didn't want her to leave, not like this. "Hermione, wait!" She looked at him. "I'm sorry about Weasley. I know you're upset, and I'm the last person you want to see, but will you stay, here, at least until you can apparate safely?" He hoped that would appease to her logical side. She sat back down placing her head to bars, sobbing uncontrollably.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

She couldn't believe he was actually dead. She had hoped they had been wrong and it was just some muggle with red hair, as horrible as that sounded. She didn't know why but she believed Malfoy, she even believed that he was sorry for her loss. She knew Malfoy was right about her apparating like this, she could splinch herself. She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want to see the look on Harry's face or the faces of the Weasleys' right now. She knew the guard would show up soon telling her it was time to leave, but she couldn't move.

"Did he suffer?" She finally asked.

"No." He said simply.

Hermione placed her hand on Malfoy's.

"Thank you, for telling me, and letting me not apparate and sit here and listen to me cry." She knew she was rambling.

"No problem, Granger, I've enjoyed the company."

Hermione snorted. "No really. All I do is sit here replaying the last several years, looking for some microscopic thing I could have done differently. I took the Dark Mark to keep my parents safe, and look where that got me. I should be thinking about my future, when I was at my hearing I kept thinking I finally have a choice, I can be the person I want to be, but when I'm here I find myself wondering what the point is and that maybe I do belong here. That I am my father's son and I will always been seen like that."

"People change, war makes people change. Before the war I did think you would grow to be your father, but I was wrong. You didn't kill Dumbledore, I believe you when you say that you've never killed anyone. I can't imagine what you saw on the other side of the war with Him, but you are not your father." They both turned their heads when they heard the footsteps. She stood up. "I guess it's time. Thank you, Draco."

Draco nodded, as she waved and followed the guard to the apparition point. _The Burrow._

She landed on the soft grass, she sighed as she walked to the door. George held it open for her, she wrapped her arms around his waist tears falling on his shirt.

"Come on Hermione, mom'll make you some tea." She followed him in the kitchen. Harry and the remaining Weasleys were sitting at the table. Molly sat a cup and some biscuits in front of the empty chair meant for her. She sat down and thanked Molly.

"How are you, dear?"

"I just came back from Azkaban. I went to talk to Dra… Malfoy

"He did kill him." Harry stated.

"No, Harry, he didn't. Lucius did. He told me everything. His father had taken him to some muggle house, to prove his loyalties and I guess the muggles took Ron in after he got in a fight. Malfoy couldn't do it, so his dad grabbed his wand and killed them all. I guess Lucius thought if Voldemort saw the last spells on the wand then he wouldn't kill Draco."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, Harry I do. I saw the look in his eyes, there was remorse. He couldn't even kill Dumbledore for Merlin's sake. I think…"

"How can you sit there and defend him? He was cruel to you he called you a Mudblood almost everyday since our second year. His let his father killed our best friend."

"I'm not defending him, Harry, I'm just pointing out the facts. The facts are that he couldn't even kill Dumbledore with his Aunt and the other Death Eaters egging him on, how could he possibly kill Ron?"

"I don't know Hermione, maybe he choked up with Dumbledore, you know how much he hated Ron, maybe those muggles got in his way?"

"Harry, please." She looked around the table at the crying faces. George and Ginny got up to run after their mother. Hermione felt horrible. This is not how she wanted the conversation to go. They deserved to know what happened, she knew their would be crying and maybe some stories of Ron's character to help ease the pain. She hadn't expected for her and Harry to blow up at each other like this.

"I… I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. I didn't mean…"

"I know, Harry, we are all upset about losing Fred and Ron. We won't know the truth until Kingsley calls Mr. Malfoy in. It should be any day now. If you'll excuse me I need to go see Molly."

Harry and Hermione nodded. Harry told the rest that he was going back to Grimmauld. She stayed for awhile making sure Mrs. Weasley was alright, and apologized for her outburst.

She apparated to her flat, it was days like today she wished she could go back to her childhood home, but her parents had sold it before moving to Australia. Hermione had sent a letter from a friend she had made up for them as soon as the war had ended. She hadn't heard back. She needed to find them but trials were going on and as she and Harry were the only ones left of the Golden Trio, she had to stay here until they were over. She checked her post, nothing. Sighing she went into her bedroom, changed into some shorts and a tank top. She wondered which nightmare would wake her up tonight, she cast the silencing charms and slowly fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Draco hit the cold, floor flailing his arms and legs trying to get the Death Eater off of him. He screamed for him to leave him alone. He smashed his heel on the floor, the pain shooting up his leg. He opened his eyes, laying there for several minutes letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of his cell. His nightmares were getting worse. He had dreamed of Potter and Granger at the the Manor. Granger had been screaming, looking at him for help from his deranged Aunt Bella. He saw the tears falling down her eyes. Merlin he hated seeing her cry. She was brave, she fought for everything good and he hid behind his father. He could feel anger rising in him again. He had dreamed that several time over the months, but tonight had been different he has sent a hex at his aunt knocking her out, he had disarmed his father. He had tossed her her wand. Her and Potter had escaped, he had been attacked by Fenrir. Draco shivered still feeling the weight of the werewolf pinning him down. He hobbled back to the cot lying down, he thought of Granger. He wondered for a moment if she woke up screaming in the night. He didn't have to think about it too long, he knew the answer.

Draco woke up the next morning to a guard banging on the bars calling his name. He hobbled to the open gate, the guard grabbed his collar pushing him to the apparition point. Draco winced with each step, as soon as they read the verdict he was going to St. Mungo's. _Great, that's the first place I wanted to go._ They apparated in a dark alley close to the visitor's entrance. The guard pushed 62442 on the keypad. They descended into the Ministry and walked into the courtroom. Draco looked around. He was looking for Granger. He wanted her there, he wanted her to know that he had told the truth that he hadn't killed Weasley. He had a fleeting thought of playing the pain of his heel up and maybe she would accompany him to St. Mungo's and after that maybe get a drink. He needed to talk to her, to see if she was okay. He saw her sitting next to Potter and a sea of red hair. _So much for getting her alone._ He limped over to the seat waiting to be strapped in. He looked back at her, a strange look on her face. The Minister's voice broke his thoughts of why she had looked at him like that. Maybe he had subconsciously played up his pain.

"Draco Malfoy, after much deliberation we find that your memories are in fact true with no alterations. You are innocent of all charges. Before you leave you will be given your wand back and the clothes you were arrested in. You are free to go. "

Draco sighed with relief, he had hoped they wouldn't see a Malfoy to punish for his father's wrongdoing. He was a free man.

"Thank you, Minister." He stood up walking out with dignity, trying to ignore the pain. As he walked down the hall to get his things, he heard footsteps running after him. He turned around and saw brown blur wrap its arms around him. He could smell vanilla from her hair. He smiled and patted her back.

"You're free. I knew you were telling the truth, and now everyone knows."

She let go of him and he smiled down at her. He hadn't expected to see her again, much less get a hug. She knew he was innocent, that he hadn't killed Weasley. The idea came back to him and winced loudly as he put his weight on his foot.

"What happened?" She demanded. The look on her face went from happiness to I'm going to kill whoever hurt you.

"Nightmare," he confessed, "I fell out of bed and kicked the floor. I think I shattered my heel. I'm going to St. Mungo's after I get my wand."

Hermione nodded, he could see the wheels turning. Did she want to go with him, but couldn't find a reason? "I plan on stopping off for a drink, would you like to come with me?" He watched her eyes light up.

"Yeah, I could use one." They walked to an office. He signed the papers and an Auror handed him his belongings. They walked over to the many fireplaces, took a handful of Floo Powder, yelling St. Mungo's. He watched the green flames engulf him. He stumbled into the lobby and told the witch at the desk what happened. Draco heard the roar of the fire and saw Hermione walk out and sit next to him. She followed him when they had called his name and taken him to a room. A healer came in, she cast a few spells on his foot, and gave him a potion if he had any pain.

"Would it be an inconvenience if I asked you to meet me at the Leaky Calderon around seven, I need a shower."

Hermione smiled, "Not at all. See you at seven."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Draco apparated to the Leaky Caldron and checked into a room. It's wasn't his normal scene, but right now he didn't care. He stripped down and turned the hot water on as high as would go. He stepped in the shower letting the heat wash over him. He grabbed the soap and started washing his body, he had always had a slim figure, but now he felt like a bag of bones. He washed his hair and was about to turn the water when it finally sunk in, he was free and had been in Azkaban for almost two months. He shuddered and grabbed the soap again. When he finally turned the water off he had washed himself at least ten times, and the only reason he had stopped was because he was out of soaps. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. At first glance he thought his father's ghost had come to haunt him, but at second glance it realized it was him. His cheekbones were more prominent under his thin layer of skin. His hair had grown out to his cheeks. _So this is what people see when they look at the last Malfoy._ _No wonder Hermione had taken pity on me, I look like death warmed up._ He slicked his hair back, making a mental note to get a haircut soon. He checked the time, got dressed in the clothes he had delivered and headed down into the pub.

He sat down a table and watched the entrance for her. His stomach grumbled, as he inhaled the succulent smell that had wafted from the kitchen. Draco knew he had only invited Hermione out for drinks, but now he wished he had asked her to dinner. He was starving.

"Well don't you clean up nicely?" she smiled, sliding into her seat. "How was your shower?"

"I still don't feel clean." Draco involuntarily cringed.

"I understand, it'll get better though, after hiding out in the woods and the battle at Hogwarts I felt the same way. My skin would be bright red from the heat and scrubbing hard and as many times. I had to go to a different store because the lady at the last one kept looking at me like I was a germaphobe."

Draco smiled, he needed this, he needed a friend right now. His stomach growled. He also needed food. He wondered if she had heard that. He saw a plate pass their table.

"Ooh, that looks good," Hermione awed.

"Do you want to order something?"

"If you want to. I forgot to eat lunch today." she confessed. Draco knew she was lying but he didn't question it, as he waved a guy over.

"What can get you?"

"Fish and Chips and a Wizard's Brew please." Hermione said.

"Uh...Toad in the Hole and a Firewhiskey." Draco stated.

"Have you given any thought to what you plan to do now?"

"A haircut." He grinned at her leaning closer to her over the table.

"And after the haircut?" She laughed, her eyes lighting up for a moment before going back to the post war dull brown they had come to be. Her eyes reminded him of a trip to Switzerland he went on with his parents. He had ordered a cup of hot chocolate. The chocolate had been rich and warm. He looked at her eyes again, even though he could see the sadness they were a beautiful chocolate brown and had a way of making him feel warm and welcomed. He realized he had been staring.

"I don't know. I need to home and start taking care of things there."

Their food came and it took everything Draco had not to attack his food like a starving Hippogriff. The manners his mother had instilled in him still held strong in his head. He smiled thinking about how she would tell him when he was younger 'Never lose your manners, even if you lose everything else, at least you will always have something.' He felt his throat start to close up. He sipped the Firewhiskey, he refused to have a panic attack right now, there was plenty of time for that later. He took a bite of food, taking his time to enjoy the flavor.

"How is your food?" He asked.

"It's delicious, how is yours?"

"Good." He took another bite letting an awkward silence take over. He wondered why he thought this would be a good idea. The only things they had in common was the war. They liked books, but he didn't want to about books or war. He was a loss for words, a first for him. He thought about saying she looked nice tonight and she did but it seemed like some cliche line to bed her. _Bed her?_ That thought had opened a whole new train of thought. _No, later._ He told himself. Now it probably looked like he was avoiding looking at her. _Not how I wanted this to go._

"I am a jerk," He exclaimed all of a sudden. Hermione looked up confused. "I didn't even ask, how are you?"

Hermione chuckled, the sound pulling at something in Draco's heart.

"I'm doing well, I feel like I have some closure with aspects in my life now, I've been worried about my parents, but today I got a letter back and everything is great with them." She smiled. Draco wondered if she had phrased it like that so she wouldn't have to say Weasley's name. He wished she could see that it was for best, that she had been nothing more to him than his ticket through life, hanging on the coattails of the Boy Who Lived and the Brightest Witch of Our Age.

"What do you plan on doing now that you are out of school?"

"I talked to Professor McGonagall and I'm finishing my seventh year at home. I don't think I can go back and walk the halls and sleep in my bed there and act like nothing happened. So much for being brave." She took a bite of her chip and looked down.

"You fought in a war!" Draco shouted, then lowered his voice. "You helped defeat Him, you were tortured by your aunt, you lost friends, not to mention all the mean and stupid things I did to you and you think by not going back, you aren't brave!? C'mon Hermione, you are smarter than that!" He watched her stand up from her chair, he saw the tears her eyes. _Dammit, she's leaving._ "I'm sorr..," He started to say but was interrupted when she had leaned over and kissed him. Before he realized and could respond back she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered 'Thank you for understanding.' She let go and sat back down wiping the escaped tears off her cheek. They finished their food, but Draco didn't want her to go, her lips had been so soft and he want to kiss her back, somewhere that wasn't dark and dingy.

"You want to go for a walk, I think Florean Fortescue's is still open."

"Yeah, that sounds great."

Draco pulled her chair out for her, she took his arm that he had offered and told the man behind the bar to put on his tab, and walked out into the night air.


End file.
